Who Is Less Afraid
by PJDickinson
Summary: A Xander story focusing on the last five minutes of Season Threes "The Zeppo".


WHO IS LESS AFRAID A 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' story by P.J.Dickinson.  
  
Disclaimer: If you recognize any names and places then you can be sure that they were created and are owned by Joss Whedon. And fair play to him. Everything else comes from me so now you know whom to blame.  
  
Rating: Two small entities that have a tendency to swear.  
  
Note: This is a Xander story taking place in the last five minutes of the season three show 'The Zeppo'. Its one of my favorite episodes but I realized that its ending can be interpreted in a different way. There has been a lot of talk about Xander following the conclusion of season six. This is my take on what sort of man the Harris' eldest is. And please remember, he has just lost his virginity and it is Xander. So remember buckos 'Be home before Dark'.  
  
One.  
  
00:12 00:11 00:10  
  
-See Jack its all about fear. Xander's heart was thundering in his chest. How could deadbutt not see that he was scared out of his mind? The digital display of the bombs detonator slipped down into single figures. It seemed to pause for an age as it changed from the tens, probably just as the eye adjusted, then all too soon its original pace was resumed.  
  
00:09 00:08 00:07  
  
Come on Jack. Come on you asshole don't make me do this. Xander steadied himself and forced his mouth into the driest of grins. His mind was made up. He was going to see this through to the end. You're going to die gibbered the chimp inside. This was it. Giles was right. He should have stayed out of this. Stayed to the back of the fight like he had been told. On Jacks dead forehead sweat began to flow. His hands played with the bullet holes under his T-shirt. He looked to the unusually implacable Xander, then to the emergency exit, then to the little wires on the bomb and back to Xander. His eyes had the agitated quality of a cornered rodent calculating probabilities.  
  
00:06 00:05 00:04  
  
He was winning. For the first and probably the last time in his life Xander Harris was actually winning. Jack was cracking. It was just a pity that it would be too late. Xander felt himself relax as oblivion approached one glowing second at a time. This was so stupid, to get killed out of pride and sheer bloody mindedness. At least if there was enough of him left to identify it might look like he was doing the heroic thing. Sacrificing his life to save his friends and the school.  
  
00:03  
  
Aw shit. Who was he kidding? It would just look like he and Jack had been in it together. Blowing up the school for the yah-yahs while at a loose end on a weeknight. Dammit. His bluff was going to get called. Jack was going to take it all the way. Dammit, dammit, dammit.  
  
00:02  
  
To Hell with it. He welcomed death. At least there would be an end to this miserable excuse for an existence that he jokingly called a life. No more embarrassment, awkwardness and rejection. No more lashings from the tongue of Cordelia Chase. No more unrequited lusting after Buffy. An end to not understanding what Giles was talking about all the time. And an end to the constant beatings at the hands, talons and tentacles of a legion of monsters. This last thought brought a most pleasing prospect to mind; an end to the abusive dinking and fighting of his parents. Yay. A definite upside. He would miss Willow and that was it. Here it came.  
  
00:01  
  
Jack reached down and plucked the blue wire from the detonator. The timer ceased its countdown.  
  
. .  
  
Oh. OH! He was still alive. Oh right. He wasn't going to die. Cool. He nodded his head as he came to terms with the realization. It took a few more nods for him to process this information. He was in control of the situation. -Good boy. He was surprised by how steady his voice was. He didn't feel the need to cringe at his usual squawk. It wasn't there.  
  
Jack was sprawled over the bomb, his head in his hands. He had been outclassed. He was beaten. Xander was suddenly absolutely furious.  
  
This asshole had been ready to kill them both. He had been ready to die and for what? Xander was suddenly aware that he was bigger than Jack. He moved around the bomb and loomed over him. He was enraged; all he wanted to do was pummel Jacks face into a nasty paste. His arms twitched and his fists clenched and unclenched as he stared down at the knife wielding chickenshit under his nose. There were a million things he wanted to say right then but none would have made Willow any prouder of him. Thinking of her caused his wrath to subside as quickly as it had risen. He was better than this prick.  
  
-I don't think I want to be seeing you round school any more Jack. With that Xander turned and left the boiler room closing the door quietly behind him.  
  
He stood in the stairwell and caught his breath. It was over. Jack could reattach the wire and resume the countdown but somehow Xander didn't think that was going to happen. So what was he going to do now? Faiths naked breasts bouncing up and down flashed across his mind. No, no, no, no. Concentrate.  
  
With head hung low in a combination of exhaustion and feeling dirty good about himself he climbed the stairs up to the main hall. From below came the sound of crashing and someone having a bad time. Probably Jack throwing a tantrum he thought as he dragged his heels in search of carbonated refreshment in the shadowy corridors of Sunnydale High.  
  
Two.  
  
Xander prowled the halls of Sunnydale High School in search of sugar. Right at that moment he needed sugar to live. If whatever he ingested had a high zinc content then so much the better.  
  
He passed the lockers and sauntered along to the rest area where he found the body of Jacks dead buddy doofus#1. He was still under the coke machine that Xander had layeth the smacketh down with.  
  
-Hah. So much for magic. No friends to bring you back from the dead now eh, fathead. Xander realized that he was taunting a corpse. That was crass enough in itself but to do so when there was no one else to hear was too much for even him. He fell silent.  
  
Magic he thought. He hated it. Hated everything about it. Obviously someone had been there first in order to write the spell. But where were they now? They weren't in charge of the world, which was the usual desire magic users had. And if they were they were making a pants job of it. So what had magic done for all the sorcerers and witches that had toaded eye of newt in the past? How far had all their spells and Eldrich rites got them? Sent back to school to be wedged under the business end of a ton of pop dispenser was the answer.  
  
He shook his head and set off through the corridors in search of a coke machine that use of which bore no inherent threat of waking the dead.  
  
The thing he hated most about magic was the way there was a spell for every occasion. It was just too easy. Xander would have been the first to admit that he was no Saturday's child but magic took laziness to extremes. Aren't happy with your lot in life; incant a delirium. Got no one to go to the prom with; easy, just conjure a prince. Keep him from spawning in the spring and you're sorted. Magic took the effort out of life.  
  
Sure he had used magic in the past, but only with the others and only then in response to some cretin in a cape. He had only been the initiator once and that one time had been enough. He had learnt from his mistake. Never again, uh-uh, no sir-ee Bob.  
  
People thought that Xander was stupid, that he didn't think about this sort of stuff, that he had no attention span. They were wrong, about everything except the attention span. That he had to admit was poor and he had the grades to prove it. However things that actually interested him were a different matter. He had once taken a Spiderman purity test and scored Carnage class fandom.  
  
No, Xander Harris was anything but stupid. All those hours of research in the library for Giles had produced a mind that was gorged on the juicier details of the esoteric and hungry for more. Especially for some of the woodcarvings. Magic however, well that just left him cold because he could see it for what it was. Bad news. Take Angel for an example.  
  
There was a classic case of how wrong magic could go. Sure Angel could be charming and was good in a fight and knew things that no one, not even Giles, would ever suspect had to be known about. And yes he had a soul. And yes Buffy loved him. But if you had a dog in your house that was loyal on the heads toss of a coin. But on tails would rip your throat out. Then rip out the throats of everyone you cared about before embarking on a century of torture and bloody mayhem. There would be no questions asked. That mutt would be taken out back and introduced to Jesus quicker than Willow learnt Latin.  
  
It was sad and it gave him no pleasure to admit it, but deep down in his waters Xander knew that one day he would be the man that stepped out of the sunlight and turned that coiffured leech to dust.  
  
In the distance, far away from his internal monologue Xander's nose began to register something unusual. A prickling, irritating sensation that that he immediately recognized but was not fully aware of until he rounded the corridor to the library when it hit him with its full impact.  
  
He reeled, partly from the stench, which was due to the acrid burn of the brimstone that always accompanied Hell opening its maw on earth; but mostly from shock. The entire corridor was filled with debris. He had never seen it so bad. He wondered how many gas leaks Giles was going to have to concoct to explain this one away.  
  
Gingerly, Xander picked his way through the rubble, carefully stepping over the library doors that were lying in pieces along the walls. He picked up a thick splinter of English oak as long as his fore arm and advanced towards the epicenter of the destruction with the stake held high. When Buffy had said it was going to be bad she had not been exaggerating. He hoped the Scoobers were all all right and all safe.  
  
Slowly, and with caution that would have made a gazelle nod its head with approval Xander stepped in to the library.  
  
Three.  
  
The destruction was complete. It looked as if Jack and his buds had invited the Unabomber over for a barbeque. The center of the room, the opening of the Hellmouth was intact, everything else was upside down. He couldn't see any bodies but was unsure if that was a good thing.  
  
The long table, around which they had spent so many hours researching, was surprisingly intact. It was up on one end with the legs propped against the wall where the doors had hung. It was as if some one had used it as a barrier to hide behind. Xander, crouched low crept along the wall to look behind it. Maybe that some one was still there, hiding or injured. He wished he had a torch.  
  
The front of the table was scorched as if huge matches had been stuck against it. Thankfully no one was there. A spell book lay open on the floor. Xander tried to read it but it wasn't in a language he understood. Something other than English then. Willow had probably hid behind here casting protective magic while the rest of the Scooby gang had dealt with whatever it was that had come out of the Hellmouth. Everyone except useless Xander.  
  
There was a feeling in the air. Something heavy and disjointed that made his head feel both dizzy and clotted at the same time. It felt neither good nor evil, simply disturbed. A side effect of whatever had happened here.  
  
Xander, still keeping low and wary crossed the library to Giles reception desk. Issue cards and books were scattered all over the place and large parts of the desk were battered and broken. A crossbow bolt projected out of the wood just at the level of his eyes. Giles aim was up to its usual standard then, he thought. Putting one hand on top of a stable section of the desk he hoisted himself up and used a military roll to keep himself as small a target as possible. He dropped down on the other side.  
  
Shuffling along he peered at the Hellmouth and the rows of bookshelves on the raised semi-circle that flanked it. No one was up there as far as he could see. Only one set of shelves was left standing, the rest were knocked over and could be hiding bodies but somehow Xander didn't think so. This all felt very different from the usual danger they faced. If there was something in here that wanted to make him its butt monkey then it would have already attacked. Xander stood up and took in the whole room.  
  
-Hello. Heads up for the Xan man. There was no answer. Everyone was gone. Where would they have gone? Hospital maybe, or probably Giles house. Angels pad was also a possibility. Hospital and then Giles was the most likely. He rubbed his forehead. How did they keep this up? Night after night.  
  
Xander was glad he hadn't been here. He would have wanted to help his friends but he was aware he would probably have died. They had been correct to keep him out of this. He should try and contact them. There was a phone in Giles office. He would use that.  
  
Still unnerved and moving cautiously Xander entered the office. The destruction had spread in here. Giles small refrigerator was still humming but everything else was wrecked. Books running with blood covered the floor. Only one person could lose that much fluid and not leave a corpse. As Xander righted a desk looking for the phone his hypothesis was proved correct. He found one of the big axes that Angel favored. Some type of evil must have broken away from the main fight and Angel had either chased it in here or been chased himself. Xander couldn't help cracking a smile at that thought. He would have loved to see the inscrutable one under pressure.  
  
He found the phone but it was dead. Following the cable he found that it had been ripped out of the wall. Damn. What should he do now?  
  
He righted Giles chair and sat at the desk to think. What would Giles do? Have a cup of tea of course. Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea. He could always put loads of sugar in it. That would make him feel better. He found the kettle and located all its associated paraphernalia. Plugging it into the wall he put a teabag in a mug and added some milk from the fridge, happily chilling away. Giles had some food in it, sort of. There were some pickled capers, pilchards in brine and jellied eels on the shelves but nothing Xander would consider eating this side of a nuclear winter.  
  
Picking up the sugar jar he unscrewed the lid. -Oh bugger, said a little voice. -You found me. Xander screamed and dropped the container.  
  
Four.  
  
Xander's squeal echoed back and forth in the abandoned corridors of Sunnydale High. He reeled backwards on hid tiptoes flailing his fingers like a particularly effeminate girl. His thoughts yo-yoed between outright repulsion and the reprimand he was going to give Giles for keeping creepy little talking things in his sugar. What sort of freak was he anyway?  
  
The jar landed on its side spilling sugar onto the bloodied floor while the lid rolled round like an uncaught Frisbee. Xander stopped prancing and watched. There was a high-pitched cough like a baby farting and a clot of sugar was catapulted into the air. Xander twitched but did nothing. Indecipherable grumbling was followed by a small figure that clambered out of the jar. It stood up, dusted itself off and after unfolding a pair of leathery wings fluttered into the air.  
  
Xander took a step back. -Wh.wh.what the Hell are you? The creature performed a couple of orbits of Xander's head, watching him with the same intensity that he applied to it.  
  
It was humanoid, with a reddish, brown tough looking hide. Its head was pretty demonic looking, with pointed ears and fangs but any fear that might have been generated by its visage was negated by its size. It was about as big as one of Xander's biceps. Its bat like wings carried it up toward the ceiling then across the room where it alighted on Giles desk. It stretched, seemingly oblivious to the human watching it and using a sharp little tongue cleaned off the rest of the sugar sticking to it.  
  
Xander stared at it. He was no longer grossed out. He had expected some sort of sentient slime or a decapitated brain with a voice synthesizer. He had not expected Giles to have his own pet demon. The arched eye browed one had a secret. Giles had his own mini-me. Cool.  
  
The mini-Giles was busy sucking its digits clean but its gaze was fixed on the gigantic human before it. Xander looked it in the eyes and was slightly disconcerted to find the contact returned. There was intelligence in those orbs. Perhaps more than even he possessed. He decided time had come to make friends. -Hey, he said. The creature ceased its preening and placed its hands on its hips.  
  
-So? Said the creature. Xander smiled back. -Hi. There was an awkward pause in the conversation as each participant sized the other up. At that moment the kettle came to a boil and switched itself off with a click. Xander was in desperate need of his sugar. -Do you want a .a .cap of tea? The demon arched one eyebrow. It was a mini- Giles. Xander decided to treat it as such. It obviously belonged in the office or else it would have tried to make its escape.  
  
He reached inside the refrigerator and unscrewed the lid from a bottle of mineral water. He filled the cap with some tea brewing in his mug and gingerly set it before the creature. He was a bit nervous of its teeth, for all he knew it could be poisonous. Xander put his mug down on the table a respectable distance form the thing and sat down. He poured milk into his own tea and held the carton out to the creature. -Want some? He asked. The mini-Giles shook its head. It looked puzzled as if it didn't know what to make of this behavior. That suited Xander fine. He was used to people giving him that reaction and he had learnt to monopolize on it.  
  
-No? Xander set the milk down on the table and sipped his tea. He had forgotten to put any sugar in it. He got up and fetched the jar from the floor. -I hope you don't have any diseases, he said and poured sugar into his drink then stirred it with his finger. -Ahhh. That's much better. You have no idea how much I have been looking forward to that.  
  
Just as the sugar was hitting Xander's system the creature seemed to reach a decision. It laughed out loud and sat down. -Pass the sugar please, it said. -My kind of man, said Xander and continued to drink his tea while scrutinizing the thing out of the corner of his eye, still not sure. It dropped a couple of handfuls into the cap and then using both hands raised it to its head and slurped noisily. It emptied the cap in one sitting and then wiped its mouth with the back of one hand with a satisfied sigh. -I do like sugar, it said. -That why you were hiding in it then? asked Xander.  
  
It nodded and smiled, slightly embarrassed at having bee caught out. Over its shoulders Xander noticed that there were two little straps that were attached by a third strap across its bloated belly. Hanging from the belts were some accoutrements. Over the right hip was a spool of golden thread and over the left there was a needle in a scabbard. Perhaps Giles used him to mend his shoes thought Xander remembering the fairy tale.  
  
-So? said the creature again. What's it going to be? Xander shook his head. -I'm sorry, he said. But what in the name of Jiminy Cricket's underpants are you talking about? The creature rubbed the crown of his head and sighed. -It's traditional, it explained, in these circumstances to grant one wish to secure freedom.  
  
Xander gave the demon his best incredulous look. -Did Giles get you free with cereal or something? The creature waved Xander's comment away and repeated itself. -So what will it be? And only one mind you. I don't do that three shite. Xander reclined in the chair and allowed a huge smile to spread over his face. -Let me think, he said.  
  
Five.  
  
Many, many, many things went through Xander Harris' mind over those next few minutes. Many, many, many things. The combined raging tusk fantasies of Hugh Hefner, Errol Flynn and Tommy Lee in their most memorable moments of panting sweatiness may have just managed to touch Xander's balloon, but only just. He had but scant hours ago lost his virginity to the horniest babe in Sunnydale and Faiths naked breasts just would not stop bouncing, even when he closed his eyes.  
  
The demon was offering to grant him a wish. Anything his heart desired. This could definitely get ugly.  
  
Xander's hormones seemed to be entitled to more votes than his common sense. His teenage mind was swimming with a legion of beauties that had at one time or another graced his vision. Unlimited wealth and fame were coming a close second to the totty but they were a little too mundane for Xander to consider for long. His imagination was his greatest asset and he knew if he could just give it time to emerge from wherever it had spent the night hiding in terror he would be able to concoct something unique.  
  
-Anything yet? Asked the demon. Xander screwed up his face to communicate that he was thinking and not to rush him. Suddenly it came to him. He had been adding Mary Jane Parker to his wish list when Spider Man had come back into his mind. What was the one thing that set Xander apart from all his friends? Super powers. Sooper-dooper kick ass powers. Oh yes.  
  
He could wish for anything. Strength, speed, invulnerability, the ability to fly, Wolverines retractable claws; Hell why not all of them. Angel would crap those velvet breeches of his on the spot. Yes, he would wish for the super powers of his favorite superheroes, with a harem of fit babes on the side. He was just about to open his mouth and speak when he caught the look the demon was giving him.  
  
-So? it said. Have you reached a decision? Its head was turned down to its feet but it was watching Xander intently through hooded eyes. However the impression it exuded was not malicious but rather weary, as if it had seen all this a million times before and was preparing itself to go through the same spectacle again.  
  
Xander paused. For some reason the part of his consciousness that spoke with Willow's voice was Tut-Tutting. Why Willow? He hadn't been thinking about sex, just then anyway. -Who are you? He asked. -Are you commanding me to tell you my name? Said the demon with just a little too much enthusiasm. -No. You don't get away that easily. I'm asking you your name. -Yours first. A few moments passed and then with a what-the-hell shrug Xander told the demon his name. The demon smiled as if intrigued and then told the youth his own.  
  
-Sisposutas. -Easy for you to say. -With these teeth! You think? A while passed without either saying anything, both racing through their own thoughts. The demon cracked first.  
  
-Are you ready to. -So what sort of demon are you anyway? Xander interrupted. I've never heard of a type that goes about hiding in sugar granting wishes, though I wish there were more of you about. Sisposutas glared at him and for a second Xander felt his heart rate begin to accelerate.  
  
-A demon. The words were spat rather than said. Is that what you think I am? Xander shrugged once again and pointed lamely at the creature. He wanted to say something about quacking birds and ducks but nothing would come out. The not-a-demon seemed to be genuinely offended. Xander hoped that this wouldn't jeopardize his wish entitlement.  
  
Sisposutas was pacing back and forth on the desk whispering something under his breath. Then he stopped as if reaching a decision. -Look about you human. What do you see? He spread his wings to emphasize the question. Xander looked about him but could only see the wrecked library and somehow he knew that the question demanded a better answer than the obvious. He made a few gestures with his hands before admitting defeat.  
  
-Look about. Use all your senses. What do you perceive? -The library is wrecked, my friends might be dead and something is making my head feel like its not my own. He blurted.  
  
-Exactly. Said Sisposutas. Everything is not as it should be. Things have changed. That is why we are here. To restore order. To heal the damage done to the Evermore by repairing dimensional harmony. Xander had lost him on things changing.  
  
Six.  
  
-Huh? Xander shook his head. What the Hell was the little thing gibbering about? Dimensions, unity, healing; and what the frig did Harmony have to do with any of this? Sisposutas was in full flow and there was no way he was going to be stopped now. Xander really seemed to have irritated him, if it even was a he.  
  
-You humans really wear me out. Brains the size of planets and feet to match. You all go through your lives making so much mess for others to clean up. And that's all right; don't think I'm complaining. I love my vocation I just wish that once in a while you would stop and think about all the bloody repercussions of the choices you make. Xander tried to nod in an understanding type of way.  
  
-You haven't a bloody clue what I'm talking about do you? Said Sisposutas in a slightly less angered tone. -Not a baldy.  
  
Sisposutas sighed and after flipping over the mineral water bottle cap sat down. -Right, he said. I'll start at the beginning. -And go slow, interjected Xander. -Sure. Why not? Its not as if I have anything I could be at, a little reality that needs suturing. No biggie.  
  
-Okay. Each person has a slightly different perspective of the Universe, right? You will see it differently than, say, your parents. Xander stiffened at the mention of his parents. -And they will see it differently than you but not as much as someone who comes from a different culture or a different part of the planet. Okay so far? Out of pure habit Xander nodded his head.  
  
-Well all humans perceive the Universe through the same pair of eyes compared to how creatures from other dimensions see it. And when I say dimensions I'm not talking about the up, down, in and out stuff your scientists love to measure. I'm talking about the segregations that are brought about through different aggregations of the elements. -Was with you. Now not.  
  
-It's very simple. Everything is composed of four elements which through their interactions give rise to the to a fifth; life. Or to be more exact the Soul, which is how, the Universe looks into its own creation. Now the basic four elements have opposites. -Fire and ice, Pepsi and Coke. Suggested Xander.  
  
-Exactly. Confirmed Sisposutas. Except for the Pepsi and Coke bit. But what is most important is not the opposition of the elements but rather the interaction of the elements and their anti-elements. Each component in the universe has a polar extreme, which works in opposition to it. They do not interact, they negate. Anti-life wipes out life. It's a representation of the Universe's desire not to look at itself in the mirror.  
  
-So.that means. -Go on. -.that.demons. -You can do it. -.their dimensions.have less life.than ours? -Or more anti-life. It all depends upon your perspective. Neither actually good nor evil in the long run, just opposed.  
  
Xander leaned back in the chair and mulled it over. It actually made a lot of sense when you thought about it. Good and evil were just words. It was the Universe and its need for an analyst that was to blame. Knowing who to shake his fist at in future made him feel better but he had the feeling he had already known this. He had just never found the words.  
  
-So where do you come into all this? Sisposutas' shoulders sagged as he obviously struggled to find words small enough. -It's all to do with attention to detail Xander.  
  
-The Earth, which is the representation of a particular proportion of the elements, is really quite an exceptionally beautiful and desirable place. A lot nicer than many others believe me. So naturally everyone wants it, not just those who were here originally but others who don't exist in such a nice elemental arrangement.  
  
-Now the Universe is capable of accommodating a certain amount of flux between the elements and their opposite poles. That happens on a daily basis to some degree or another. But when creatures possessing free will actively upset the balance, then it takes time for everything to harmonize again. When some event shreds the fabric that delineates dimensions then the whole Universe is vulnerable so we come in to tidy up and speed the healing process. He held up the needle and patted the spool of thread as if to prove what he was saying.  
  
-So when Buffy and all closed the Hellmouth tonight there was more damage done than just the wrecked furniture? -Yep. That's why your head feels so out of sorts. You are in an area of fluxion. Your senses, which are perfectly adequate and steering you around obstacles and towards good things like sugar are picking up on the disturbance and you don't know what to make of it. As I speak other Pluripotents, such as myself, are moving around and through us and mending the tears as best they can.  
  
-Through us? Xander was beginning to get tired and he still had a wish to make and school to get up for in the morning.  
  
-I am here. Right here and nowhere else, but the tears stretch across time and space. Others are here, doing the same job as I, but not quite exactly here. Just out of this reality, slightly to the side. We are Pluripotent you know? Sisposutas the Pluripotent made a few side steps on the table as if to demonstrate what he was talking about. He gave up when he realized that Xander's expression was not changing to one of enlightenment.  
  
Seven.  
  
Sisposutas sat back down on the cap. He was feeling foolish. It was difficult enough to explain all this to a canny sorcerer who may have laid a trap to attain his wish but to have to explain the machinations of the Evermore to a child who had caught him by accident was all but impossible. Only one human had ever come close to understanding its full implications and that had been centuries ago. And the poem he had written had just dealt with the death side of it all and had pretty much not rhymed and generally been shite altogether.  
  
Why was he wasting the Universes time with this whelp? He could feel the damage done keening in his soul and the voices of his other selves; the Pluripotents also assigned to this repair, were growing anxious for him to return to his work.  
  
But there was something about the boy that called to Sisposutas. He was entitled to his wish and until the Pluripotent had dispensed with his responsibility he was bound to Xander, but he knew himself that he was drawing this out.  
  
He should have granted the wish and gotten on with the job at hand leaving the fallout from the magic, for there was always some form of Hell to pay for magic, to some other poor Pluripotent. It was a ridiculous state of affairs that creatures bound to the maintenance of the Universe could have so much potential destruction ay their fingertips. But then there you go. How big a list could you make of things that did make sense?  
  
For some reason he could not yet fathom he felt that spending his time in this way was important. Why he felt that the boy was so important. He was sensitive to many aspects of the humans lives and he knew that Xander was a man who of potential who walked a fine line of bad decisions tempered with good intentions. Sisposutas wanted to help him, but he couldn't tell hi m what to do or even warn him of the dangers. The Evermore forbade it. But he did want to help the youth, somehow.  
  
Xander for his own part was trying to forget all the Universes problems and get down to some serious wish making. However, for some reason the piece of his mind that spoke with willows voice would give him no peace.  
  
-Would another cap of tea be possible? Asked Sisposutas playing for time. -Sure. Might just be what I need to. The boy sounded distracted, he was troubled. Sisposutas could tell that Xander was on the verge of making a decision. He could feel new Pluripotents swarming to this point in time and space in expectation of a disaster. Sisposutas had to think of something now. It was all in an attention to detail. Xander was getting up to plug the kettle back in.  
  
-So Xander eh? That's an interesting name. Who were you named after? -Huh? I dunno. Probably some guy my dad owed beer money to. In a sudden rush it all came back to the Pluripotent. He could tell why he felt so attached to the child. It wasn't the words but the tone. He had heard it before.  
  
-Do you know what it means? -Pissed upon from a great height? Loser of titanic proportions? -Ah hah, no. Not quite. It's short for Alexander, which comes from two Greek words, Alexin, to defend or protect and Aner, which means man. Alexander; protector of men. Why do you think you got the shortened version?  
  
-Do you want sugar with this? He was trying to give him his tea. The boy had no concept of what was waiting to rush at him from the ether.  
  
-No I have to return to my work. Sisposutas stood up quickly. He could help no more. The rest was up to Xander. All around the man Pluripotents were swarming with their needles drawn. A sudden silence descended on the room as the moment arrived. All possible outcomes became apparent and the gathered Pluripotents multiplied exponentially to cope with the anticipated chaos. There was nothing Sisposutas could say that would change anything nor would he.  
  
-Your wish please. I can tarry no longer. Xander looked at him. -Forget it.  
  
Sproing!  
  
Disorder reigned amongst the Pluripotent. What had the human said? Was he declining his wish? Was this possible?  
  
Xander slurped the tea oblivious to the mayhem around him. Sisposutas fought to be heard. -I want to clarify that you are reneging on your entitlement to your hearts desire. Do you truly decline your right to unparalleled happiness and set this Pluripotent free to return to its eternal duty? -Yeah. Knock yourself out.  
  
Xander finished his tea and getting up said, -Look it's been a blast but I'm going home. Let yourself out okay? Sisposutas watched the extraordinary youth as he left.  
  
Xander paused in the doorway of the office for a moment and surveyed the damage to the library shaking his head. -Magic, he said in a voice reeking with contempt and then was gone.  
  
Eight.  
  
The gathered Pluripotents sheathed their needles and slowly began to disperse. They would not forget what had happened here today. Never before had a human actually turned down the offer of eternal happiness. They were usually scheming and plotting like demons to secure a place in the cosmos that they did not deserve.  
  
Millennia in service to the Evermore across countless dimensions and infinite sights should have inoculated Sisposutas to feeling surprise at anything that the Universe had to offer, and he thought that it had. It was reassuring to know that it could still be an interesting place to live.  
  
He flew over to the sugar jar to restore some energy before he returned to his work. He remembered the last time that he had felt even remotely like this. He could not recall exactly when it had happened but it must have been shortly before the youth was born.  
  
He had been called to an event which that had omens of being very destructive. Not on a scale as malignant as that which had occurred between the slayer and Hell earlier in the night, but terrible on a personal level which was just as important to the Evermore.  
  
A young man who was very much in love with his wife was about to find her in a post coital embrace with his brother. The presages were for violence. The man had no role models or friends who may have in their relationships educated him as to how to behave. He was young and would be unable to suppress his anger. All he had was his wife and she had betrayed him.  
  
As the wife wept at her husband's feet the Pluripotents had swelled in number. There were few outcomes that did not end in murder, so consuming was his rage. What made the event more tragic was that the woman was pregnant with their child. Neither of them knew this at the time.  
  
As the moment arrived and the Pluripotent massed in their greatest density the most remarkable thing happened. All the pain and rage and treachery that the man felt was turned inwards. He killed himself in an instant rather than do his wife any harm.  
  
Sisposutas had never witnessed anything as noble again until now. He wondered about the man from time to time. He wondered if he had ever managed to rekindle the love that he had once had for the woman or whether it had festered and become hate.  
  
Maybe it had become cancerous and all consuming until he could barely stand to look at the woman he had once believed loved him back with the same ferocity he felt for her. Perhaps he was reduced to pretence, only able to display his love when she was sleep or in some other way unaware of his advances. Whatever it took to protect him from that rejection again.  
  
Sisposutas scoffed more of the sugar as he thought. It was so tragic. The man had sacrificed so much for his woman and he had had so much potential. Did she have any idea? He wondered what had happened to them and the child. In the back of his mind he had an idea. Nobility was in its blood.  
  
Xander popped his head round the door. -Hey fatboy. Sisposutas choked on a handful of sugar. Oh bugger, not again. Caught twice in one night. -Any chance of working that mojo on a guys dented wheels?  
  
Nine.  
  
Uncle Rory's sky-blue Plymouth came suddenly to life as Xander gunned the ignition and buried the accelerator. He burned out of Sunnydale High School's car park leaving a pair of screeching black tattoos on the tarmac. Whatever Sisposutas had done to the car had left it feeling as if it was straight out of the showroom. It even had that new car smell of leather thought Xander as he pulled down hard to the right and felt the car bite like it was ravenous for the taste of fresh road. Xander eased himself back in the seat and let the V8 indulge itself.  
  
He pulled into the driveway a short time later. Contrary to the laws of relativity Xander actually felt that those few minutes of speed had lasted a lot longer. He was tired and cranky and he hurt all over from a day concentrated with beatings. On reflection he should have asked Sisposutas to dilute his concussion cordial. How many brain cells did he have left in working order? He wasn't the sort of person who could stand to squander his meager reserves.  
  
Xander killed the lights and switched off the engine taking a moment to think. As the car cooled he thought about the night. He was worried about his friends, he had scooted around the corridors before he had left but the school had felt empty and his quick search had corroborated this intuition. He hoped they were okay but was too pragmatic to go searching for them now. No body was a good sign; unless the 'great evil' had been a hungry great evil. Xander blanked that thought as if he was a cheerleader volleying one of his icebreakers. They would have gone to ground. Crept back to their houses and dragged themselves painfully to bed to wake the next day and behave, to the outside world, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.  
  
Faith crept into the equation. What was he to make of all that? He closed his eyes and savored her naked image, which was being retained by his mind in the same way that a fontanel holds a thumbprint. What should he do? How would she react to him the next time they met? Had it meant the same for her as it had for him? As he locked the car and crept into the house Xander's usual insecurities miraculously disappeared. He had no previous experience but this had felt different than he had expected, had been more than finally losing the big V. They had connected, two people who had managed to find a moment of tenderness in a seemingly endless night of pain and fear. His mother had always told him that everyone, no matter how stupid and clumsy, had a soul mate somewhere out there. The important thing was to learn what you needed to make your life better and hold on tight when you finally found it.  
  
He closed the front door behind him and slipped off his shoes. The house was silent and the lights were all off as if someone had actually gone to bed rather than just passed out. The drunken war of attrition that had been raging between his parents for as long as he could remember seemed to have reached its nightly impasse. Tip-toeing through the front room Xander was surprised not to find his father unconscious on the sofa bed. He hoped that the bastard had finally fallen down the basement stairs onto a screwdriver. Xander used to wish the man would meet a drunken end with a power tool but the cheapskate had pawned all those years ago. And what a Christmas that had been. The holly decorated paper plates had been particularly memorable.  
  
Xander sidestepped the extendable frame of his father's nest with the sureness of a computer program. He downed a quart of milk in the kitchen then crept back out into the hall to check on his mother. He had to be careful in the tiny hall as the boards were taken to creaking mercilessly. He didn't want to wake the 100% proof male of the house, wherever he was. The door to his mother's room was slightly open so he pushed on it and stared into the fetid gloom within. She was asleep on the bed. Her top was off exposing an uncomfortable looking bra and her pants were unbuttoned, but that seemed to be as far as she had got in undressing before the alcohol had won. She was snoring in the loud sonorous rhythm of the truly sloshed. He slipped into her room; ignoring the strength of her body odor he pulled the top bed sheet over her cold and clammy body. He wished she wouldn't drink so much but he loved her dearly and was unable to remember a time when she hadn't used drink to escape her husband. Xander was her special wee man. The only man in her life that had never hurt her, excepting of course when she had given birth to him but she had forgiven him for that now and blamed only his father for the ordeal. He lifted an empty wine bottle from her limp hand and set it on the bedside table.  
  
Xander's eyes had become used to the murk. He was about to leave the room, with the intention of going to bed, when he froze. His father was sitting on the floor at the bottom of her bed. Xander, moving with great caution, opened the bedroom door wider hoping to allow more light on the situation. He was naked except for some underwear. Where his clothes were Xander had no idea. He had something in his arms.  
  
Xander hunkered down to get a closer look. It was something black and shiny. Xander leaned in closer to the sleeping man. A shoe. It was one of his mother's shoes and he was cradling it like it was something fragile and precious. Xander stood up and stared down on the man in complete disgust. With less care than he would usually have taken he closed the door on the bum and went to bed where he dreamt of Faith's athletic tongue.  
  
Ten.  
  
Xander woke the next morning to find that he had slept in. He was already two hours late for school. Well, he thought, he might as well just take his time then. He gave his mother a call, poking his head around the door and gently calling her name until he got something that was more response than snore. She had to be at work soon at the 7-11 and he didn't want her to be late and get into trouble. His father was not in the room.  
  
He fixed himself a bowl of multi-colored cereal and carried it into the bathroom munching as he walked. He ran some water into the sink polishing off his breakfast as he waited for the water to heat up. He set the empty bowl on the toilet then started. There was a body in the bath.  
  
It took him a moment to recognize his father. He was still in the underwear and the enamel had robbed his flesh of its usual sanguine hue. He was so cold he was almost blue. He must have spent the night there. Xander stared at him. All sympathy he felt for him had dissipated years ago. He had been nothing more than a steady stream of drunken abuse and disappointment for so long that Xander could not remember a time when he had not hated him. It would be better if he just died. Then Xander and his mum could be alone.  
  
He turned his back on his father and washed at the sink. As he dried his body with a large bath towel his attention returned to the man in the bath. For so many years Xander had been terrified of him. It was hard to believe now as he stared at the lump of inebriated tissue beneath him. Then, from the back of his mind something Sisposutas had said the night before came back to him in fragments. It had been something about his name. Why had he been given the shorter version of Alexander the Pluripotent had asked him?  
  
Xander thought for a moment and then against his better judgment draped the towel over the older mans frigid form making a blanket for him. He left the room and after making sure that his mother was definitely moving grabbed his bag and skateboard and left the house.  
  
He didn't feel like taking Uncle Rory's car this day. Today he just wanted to feel the wind in his hair and think. He took an unusual route to the school, skating down into the town where he cut through a few wide car parks. He was enjoying Sunnydale at a time of the day he rarely saw. People he didn't recognize were going about their normal daily routines and he was surprised at how busy the town was. It felt different being here on a day and at a time he would normally have been in class. It was somehow more alive and he felt a part of it.  
  
Xander thought about Faith and what last night had meant to them. His mother's words on relationships went through his mind. Had he found what he needed to make his life better? Would he be able to hold on if he had?  
  
He stopped at a set of lights and waited for the pedestrian crossing. Across the road Faith stepped out of a small bakery carrying her breakfast. She was dressed in bed-wrinkled shorts, a tight white vest and flip-flops. Her hair was tied back and she wore no make up.  
  
Xander waved to her and stepped out into the road and was nearly run over by a passing SUV. The driver leaned on the horn and Xander hopped back onto the sidewalk a blush creeping up his face. Faith turned at the sound of the horn and saw Xander looking sheepishly at her. She flashed a smile at him, then aimed two fingers in his direction, cocked her thumb and shot him with her imaginary gun. She slipped between two parked cars and disappeared down an alley. Xander mimed the bullet hitting him right in the heart and held on tight.  
  
The End.  
  
10Jun02 8536 Words.- 


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